


The Girlfriend

by MagnanimousTwit



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Cooking, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fake Dating, First Meeting, Romance, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnanimousTwit/pseuds/MagnanimousTwit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He opened his big dumb mouth because it was Amanda. Sweet Amanda who usually didn’t tease him about finding a girlfriend. But now Benedict had told everyone he had one, and there was nobody to fill that fourth chair after he fumbled about long enough to make a double date. Right as he’s about to fess up, however, here comes Diana - beautiful, clever, and lying through her teeth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out my tumblr: http://magnanimoustwit.tumblr.com/
> 
> I take one-shot requests and really, really appreciate prompts. If you use tumblr you're better off following me there.

Chapter 1

 

If it wasn’t Amanda, Benedict wouldn’t have opened his fat mouth. There was a party at Martin’s, just a boisterous little something for Amanda’s birthday. She’d really let her husband run it, as far as the guest list went. Any Hobbit actor who found themselves in London were there, Simon and Nick were there, and they mingled along with all of Amanda’s girlfriend’s.

And Benedict had a few, so he was in a dumb state by default. He was just talking with Martin, and Dean when Amanda came up. “Ben! I haven’t seen you since you got here.” She hugged him, not having the chance when he first arrived.

“Alone, as always.” Martin mocked Benedict’s lack of girlfriend whenever they went or, in this case, stayed in.

If it weren’t for Amanda, he’d tell Martin to shove it. “I wish you’d get a girl. There’s no reason for you to be single.”

So Benedict blurted, “I’ve got a girlfriend.” He knew it was stupid the moment it came out of his mouth and at the surprised reactions he got.

“Really! Aw. Where’s she tonight?” Amanda asked. “You should have brought her!”

He only lost his intelligence the more he talked, lying through his teeth. “It’s a relatively _new_ relationship. And I don’t want to be that guy, bringing a stranger to your house.”

“That’s great, mate.” Martin slapped Benedict on the chest.

Dean chimed, “What’s she look like?”

It was a curiosity the others agreed with, pressing Benedict for more information. “Well,” He cleared his throat, thinking. “Light brown hair. Sorta tall.”

“Sorta?” Martin criticised.

“Taller than you!” Benedict sassed and it crossed his mind that he was drunk. Officially just a little bit drunk.

“What’s her name?” Amanda asked.

Name. Crap. “You’ll just have to wait and meet her.” He spoke happily, and wanted to hit himself.

“That’s a great idea.” Martin said, he and Amanda looking at each other. “Are we doing anything tomorrow?”

She took full charge. “Oh, you know that beautiful French place on Charlotte Street? I haven’t been there in a while.” She started. “How about an early dinner? About five, so we don’t have to keep the sitter waiting a lifetime into the night like we are tonight.”

“Sounds good to me.” Martin said.

“We’ll be there.” Benedict agreed. As soon as the couple walked away, he groaned and downed the rest of his drink. “Fuck me.”

Dean was still at his side and gave a chuckle. “You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” He guessed with a bit of a smug smile. “Damn good liar, though.”

“What’s my drink count at? Four? Think I could conveniently forget all this tomorrow and tell them I had no clue what I was saying?” He turned to the other man and fellow actor.

“Do you have any clue what you just did?” Dean wondered.

“Unfortunately I was hyper aware of it.”

Dean just laughed more at him and pat Benedict on the back. “Don’t sweat it. Tomorrow, show up and say you had a fight. Break up imminent.”

“No, I should just come clean.” Benedict shook his head.

The man lifted a brow. “Yeah, but I thought you wouldn’t have the guts to do that and this was the best alternative.”

He took a moment – tell Martin and Amanda he was a big fat drunk liar, or tell them tomorrow that a fictional woman might break up with him. “You’ve got a point.”

 

 

 

 

 

The next night, he was entering the restaurant at five, give or take a couple minutes. Martin told him they’d made the reservation, so he gave the name and was seated. Amanda and Martin weren’t there yet. When Benedict saw them walk in a couple minutes later, he was suddenly nervous and had to remind himself the line he’d been working on. “ _It’s just us tonight, I had a bit of a tiff with her. We might be on the rocks._ ”

But Amanda sat across from him, already mid-sentence. “Well, where is she? This girlfriend of yours.”

“She’s not here–” He started.

“Oh, she’ll just be a bit late, then?” Amanda assumed, picking up the wine list. “We should at least order her a drink.”

Martin looked it all over with his partner. “A girl Benedict’s dating must be a prissy red wine person. You have a feminine type, mate.” He mocked.

Now he opened his mouth to say he had no type, despite the fact that of his few girlfriends, they never shared in a beer with him and went for red wine. But before he could say anything, a hand held his shoulder.

“Sorry I’m late.” An unfamiliar voice announced, and then lips pressed to his cheek.

Benedict looked up at the woman who rounded the table to take the last seat. Light brown hair almost golden was cut short and pinned back in waves. She looked like she walked off the cover of a magazine, with sharp elegant features. Wearing a blue conservative but stunning dress, she had a clunky necklace around a long neck, bracelets on her left wrist, and not a single flaw in her make-up. He had no clue whatsoever who this woman was.

“Oh, you’re pretty as a picture!” Amanda put her hand out. “I’m Amanda, and this is my Martin. Ben’s withheld your name, unfortunately.”

The woman took the hand gently. “Diana. It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard, well, loads.” She smiled so brightly, her lips painted a nude pink and generously thick.

She looked over at Benedict and that smiled didn’t even flicker. Diana jut slipped a hand over his knee. “I would have been here sooner, but I wanted to look my best. First impressions are everything.” The last part was spoken right to the couple.

“Well you really made one! You’re prettier than I expected.” Martin laughed. “We were just talking about drinks before you got here. What do you want?”

Diana leaned on the table enthusiastically. “Have you had the Guinness here? I mean, it’s just Guinness but it tastes so much better. Probably because the meals have that high price tag that make you feel important if you can afford it.”

Benedict tried to hide how impressed he was. “I’m gonna have to test that theory.” Martin told her firmly as the waiter sidled next to their table. “Four Guinness!”

“Three, and a white wine for me, actually.” Amanda corrected.

The waiter agreed kindly and asked Amanda which wine, then was walking off. As he left, Martin gave Benedict a discreet, approving look.

“I love that dress, by the way.” Amanda told Diana. “It’s absolutely fantastic.”

As she thanked the woman, Benedict realized he hadn’t said a word since she sat down. He still didn’t know how she appeared out of nowhere and saved him from this mess. “You, um, you looked stunning- tonight. You look great tonight.” He added ‘ _tonight_ ’ quickly, trying to make it sound like he’d seen her before, not that she was a stranger.

She gave a little smile, looking down at her lap. “Thank you.” Diana told him.

“So how did you two meet?” Amanda asked.

Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Benedict hadn’t thought of anything other than saying that the woman next to him was fictional. Not that she’s who he had in mind. He didn’t have any mental picture of this fake girlfriend. Just light brown hair.

But Diana was right on it. “We just bumped into each other at this book shop outside of Soho and really got talking.”

The worst part was, he went to book shops often enough that the pair would believe this full heartedly. But how did she know that? “And what do you do?” Martin asked critically.

“I used to just work in a pub.” That wasn’t something Benedict was terribly into. “But last year I opened a restaurant. I’m head chef three days a week, otherwise I’m behind the bar. EC4, right on the river?”

“I love that place.” Amanda smacked Martin’s arm. “We went there for Valentines this year. Greatest cheesecake I’ve ever had.”

Diana’s smile was beautiful. “Thank you.”

Their drinks came then and Amanda made a little toast to Benedict and his new girlfriend. Right, that’s right. How could he forget she was pretending to date him?

“So,” He cleared his throat after tasting his Guinness. “Wow, that really does taste better.”

“Told you.” Diana sang, sipping at her own tall glass. She didn’t give a single whinge or cringe at the taste, really a beer drinker. It impressed him.

“Don’t let me have more than one.” He commented, mostly to himself.

The girl turned to him. “Too much drinking last night?”

_She knew_. That meant Dean was to blame, wasn’t he? He had to have told someone about Benedict’s lapse in judgement and honesty.

He chuckled nervously. “Just a bit.”

“Poor babe.” She now teased him, bumping her shoulder to his arm.

It all came so naturally to her. All of it. The stories about Benedict she just laughed through and acted like some she knew. She spoke about herself a little, vague stories about why she worked at a pub when younger and how she was a fan. But she was so well behaved. Benedict actually found himself talking openly with her after a short time. It didn’t feel like he had a stranger next to him lying any more.

Martin and Amanda loved her. Amanda said so, and Martin agreed with a, “Yeah, we fucking do.” And he wished them luck.

They left the restaurant after the meal, Martin and Amanda giving them a lengthy goodbye outside, and then Benedict just let out this giant breath of relief.

“That went well.” Diana said cheerfully at his side.

He turned quickly. “Who the hell are you?” He asked.

“Diana Burke.” She offered. “Nice to meet you.”

Before another question could fall out of his mouth, her mobile rang and she was taking it from her purse to answer. “Yeah, the date’s over.” She told whoever it was. “It went well. I told you not to worry…”

What was going on?

Diana looked over at Benedict. “I’ll see you later, mate. I think I’ve got to explain what the hell just happened to Ben.”

“Please do.” He said as she hung up.

Diana hooked her arm with his, making him walk down the road with him. “I am really sorry about all this. Dean just didn’t believe you could like convincingly enough to get them off your back.”

“So he just asked you to come down here? And you did?”

“He sort of makes a habit of saving my arse, so I’d do anything for him. He’s a good friend, even if he’s never in London these days.” She answered. “And apparently I fit your girlfriend description?”

“All I said was brown hair and sort of taller than Martin.” He admitted.

Diana gave a laugh. “Well, it was a good date for me either way. So,” She stopped, looking up at him and wetting her lips. “We can just do this a few more times. Go out and see your friends so they think this is a real relationship. Then we can break up.”

“Like fake date?” Benedict blurted. Her head bobbed in a nod and he felt flustered. “Did Dean set us up? Are you supposed to date me?”

She looked down. “Um, no, but he didn’t think this through. In a little while I can just tell everyone I’m not ready for a commitment or something. And you don’t have to lie anymore.”

“I…”

He thought about the whole night. Other than never having met her and that he spent a lot of time _lost_ , he had fun. It would be a huge stress relief, and she hadn’t said anything he didn’t really like. Benedict laughed nervously. This was just insane, but he found himself saying yes.

“If it’s not too much of a hassle- if you don’t mind. I would really, _really_ appreciate it.”

Diana pat his arm before letting go of him. “I offered, didn’t I? I’ll give you my number, and you let me know what you need.”

That was it. She gave him her number and let him there. So, suddenly, he had a fake girlfriend to make up for a big drunken mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out my tumblr: http://magnanimoustwit.tumblr.com/
> 
> I take one-shot requests and really, really appreciate prompts. If you use tumblr you're better off following me there.

Chapter 2

 

Diana was mixing drinks for the night and as she served a Manhattan, someone sat at her bar. She looked up at the dimpled grin of Dean O’Gorman.

“I was wondering if you’d make time to physically _see_ me before you left town.” She smiled. “All I got was a call asking for a favour _three days ago_.” It had been three whole days since her fake date.

The man chuckle. “Yeah, I’m horrible. But it went well, yeah? Were you horrible, break up with him? What?” He asked.

She arched a brow. “I was supposed to be bad? Woops. Martin and Amanda love me. I scared Benedict when I sat down, for sure, but I was a good date.”

“What? No! He needed to get rid of his fake girlfriend.”

Diana shrugged and stocked her bar shelf with clean glasses. “He will. In a little bit. If I had known I was supposed to be bad, which you _did not_ mention, then I would have been. Instead we’ll go out, pretend for a couple dates, and then I’ll muck it up, no worries.”

“Eh, I guess that’s better than being a bitch.” He looked at her from his stool. “I don’t know him very well so I can’t tell you how that’ll go.”

“So far so good.” She shrugged.

He changed the subject. “So how are you?”

It was a few years ago that she met Dean. He was visiting London, just for a week, so it was pure luck. Diana was in a bad way, with an ex-boyfriend who owned the flat they shared and not only cheated on her, but gave her a smack when she dumped him and kicked her out. She didn’t have a job, only sixty pounds in her purse, and only enough time to pack two suitcases before he hit her and she had to leave.

Dean came across her and her bloody lip around midnight while she sat outside the tube station, waiting for morning so she could get a train to her mum’s. He was annoying and wouldn’t leave her alone, even when she snapped at him, verbally poking at her and asking what was wrong until she cried. And he sat through the short story before he drove her all the way out to Harrow.

They talked after that. He asked how she was and what was going on constantly. Dean was probably the only person who knew how much she disliked her mother, the nag who barely spoke a word since she decided to go to culinary school instead of law school, and was mentally abusive before then. So when she got a job at a pub he paid for her first month in a little flat to get away from the woman, and Diana would never be able to say thank you enough.

So they caught up, now a big actor and a well on her way restaurant owner just recently out of a lot of debt. When bar hours were over she snuck into the kitchen and got them both some cheesecake – there was always leftover that went home with someone either way because she would not serve day old dessert.

“By the way, the name of your place is stupid.” Dean mocked her.

“Hey, watch it, Dwarf boy.” She laughed, eating the tip of the cheesecake. “It’s a celebration. I still live in that cheap flat, I dropped out of culinary school, I worked in a _pub_ , yet I own this huge chandelier lit restaurant in the EC4 postcode.”

He smiled. “Alright, fine. Still stupid.” She kicked him under the table. “Ow, hey. I _was_ going to compliment the cheesecake but now I’m keeping it to myself.”

“I don’t need your compliments. I make the best cheesecake in existence.”

“Cocky.” He scoffed. “I’m going home tomorrow. You should make the flight out soon. You said you’d let me take pictures of you before the year was out.”

“Yeah.” Diana nearly forgot. “Sure. I’ll come see you or if you come back don’t forget your bloody camera.”

“Good point.” Her phone rang in her pocket and Dean lifted a brow. As she checked it he picked up the plate and fork. “I’m taking this and leaving.”

“Hey!” She shouted as he walked away. “You can’t take the plate!”

“I’ll bring it back before I leave tomorrow!” He shouted back at her, and she was just glad that the few tables there didn’t look.

She answered the phone before it could stop ringing, not having checked the number. “Hello?”

“Hi- hello. Hey. You’re voice sounds different.” Someone rambled. “Of course it does, you’re on a phone. Ugh Um- this is Ben…edict. Benedict.”

It took a lot not to laugh. No wonder it took him so long the other night to actually join the conversation. “Hello, Ben.” She simplified, since he for a moment didn’t even know what to call himself.

“Hi. Hello, Diana.”

“Yes, as you’ve said about five times, hello.” She joked. Maybe she shouldn’t, though – teasing him when he seemed out of his depth. “Can I actually help you, darling?”

She could actually hear him take a deep breath in. “Right, yes. Word sort of got out about my girlfriend- well, you. You and me having dinner with Martin and Amanda. Now my mate Adam wants to invite us to go on a trip to this rented cottage out near Shere and I told him no, but he’s one of my oldest mates so can you come meet him and tell him no for me?”

Diana took another bite of her cheesecake. “Why not? I can take a couple days.” She told him. The only despairing thought was that it was October now and it would be _cold_.

“Because it’s a couple days! I don’t know anything about you and I don’t trust him not to poke and prod until he has answers.” Benedict panicked.

She took the fork out of her mouth. “So let’s get together and make up something. And if anything you can say we’ve only been dating for, I don’t know, a month. Who knows their girlfriend that well after a very busy month? Especially when you’ve been out of the country for part of it.”

“No, no way, no how. I can’t do this. I can barely do what we’re doing now and I haven’t even seen you since it started. Plus, it’s two bedrooms. There’s and _ours_. No way!”

Diana actually laughed. “Okay, as much as I love the panic attack – sincerely, you’re hilarious when you freak out and I’m sorry – just stop for a second.” She told him. “When does he want to do this?”

“Um, one month. Well, three and a half weeks. The fifteenth and to that Sunday. But we’re not doing it.”

“But it’s in a month.” Diana told him. “That’s perfect, you know. Until then we can hang around, be a couple. And going away together for the first time is the perfect segue into breaking up.”

“How?” He spat out.

She made a face he couldn’t see. “Remember? I’m going to not be ready for commitment. That’s sort of a serious thing.”

“Oh.” Benedict said. There was still resistance in his tone, though. “I guess that makes sense. But- _No_ , still can’t. Nope. Sharing a bed with you while my best mate is making sex jokes? No thanks.”

“You can’t just be an adult and share a bed with me? And when in doubt, joke back! Tell him we’re banging, I don’t care.”

“That is so disrespectful to you.”

She gave a laugh. “Yeah, apparently I’m quite crude when I wanna be. As can you. I don’t live in a cave, I know you have.”

“Yeah, all in good fun.” He chuckled. Diana said nothing as he paused, taking her last bite of cheesecake. “Let’s get together. I won’t say yes but we really do need to know each other, don’t we? And you do have to meet Adam either way or he’ll think I’m hiding something.”

“So you and me scheming, and then dinner on another night with the mate?”

“Sounds good.”

 

 

 

 

Benedict walked into EC4 for the first time that Friday. It was phenomenal. A specials board read out a cheaply priced prime rib and rosemary potatoes. A weekly planner board had neat cursive listing the weeks specials from days prior, and Saturday only had a small claim of ‘ _The bar TVs will be showing Doctor Who should it be on_.’

But it was classy. Table clothes were clean and pressed, place mates, fine dishes, a chandelier over the hostess and no doubt more in the restaurant. A bar was through the arch to his right, and dining room to the left. He glanced around a bit as he walked in, shocked. That girl he met not even a week ago owned this place?

“Welcome to EC4. Would you like to be seated or have a drink tonight?” The hostess asked without even a glimmer of recognition. If she knew who he was, she ignored it.

“It’s four minutes to closing and you’d actually serve me?” He asked, glancing at his watch. “That ridiculous. No, I’m here to pick up Miss Burke. We have business plans.” Not a date, he wouldn’t say date. They were just going back to hers to chat.

The hostess smiled a bit more realistically. “Good. Everyone hates late customers. Why don’t I take you to the kitchen?” She offered.

“Yes, please.” But she was already walking away and Benedict had to take a quick hopping step to keep up.

The dining room really was beautiful. Four large table, each with glittering dim lights in glass chandeliers. Along the large windows of this second floor restaurant were tables angled kindly to see the river view. Private booths were in a darker corner, spaced far and varying in size. Tables scatter the rest of the space but it was still very, very open. And very empty at this hour.

The hostess stuck her head into the kitchen. “Ana, your appointment is here.”

Appointment. Benedict tried not to laugh as she held the door open and gesture him into the kitchen.

Diana was with two other chefs, the boys cleaning diligently as she unfastened the buttons of her chefs coat. “Oh, you. She said appointment and I got really confused.” She laughed.

“I said we had business plans. My fault, really.” He told her, looking over the kitchen. “I’ve _never_ seen a restaurant kitchen before. Are they always this pristine?”

“No, which is a very bad thing, but my boys keep us to code.” She nodded at the men. “I’m good to go, but we can totally stay for some pudding. I’ve got tiramisu I can’t sell tomorrow.”

“I would say no but I want the sugar!” He was salivating just at the thought. “Screw my diet. I’ll beg.”

Diana slipped out of her chefs coat with a giggle. “Go sit. Pete, Luke, go home. Tell everyone I’m closing.” She told the guy.

Benedict let himself out and looked at the room again. As he sat at a smaller table against the window to see the beautiful view of London at night, the rest of her staff were leaving. Waiters, chefs, a bartender, the hostess. Just as they left, Diana came through the kitchen door in the plain blue jeans and white v neck she wore under that coat, her hair still in a ponytail. She had two plates and set one in front of him.

He noticed instantly his piece was bigger than hers. “This looks _so_ good. Exactly what I need.”

“Save the meretricious compliments for after you taste it.”

They both took their first bites and Benedict let out the most suggestive moan. The coffee tasted so much more divine, the mascarpone creamier than he knew possible, the cocoa just bitter enough to contrast the rich dish so it wasn’t a stomach ache waiting to happen. That was the best tiramisu he’d ever tasted.

“If I could cook I’d be asking for a recipe. I think I just came in my pants.” He blurted without thought.

Diana took it in stride. “Just don’t get anything on my nice tablecloth.”

“I’ve never tasted anything like this! This is fantastic.” She gave him a look. Benedict snorted. “Really? I said I came my pants, but the compliment you raise a brow at?”

“It’s nothing compared to my cheesecake.” She responded. “We’re out of it tonight. Fridays. People tend to either fatten up on Friday or share it with a date.”

If only he could taste that, considering she thought it was better than this. “Well, next time.” He commented. “And how did you ever get a place like this? I knew you owned it, but you look… not like a business owner.”

“Because I’m only thirty, right?” He didn’t even have to agree or nod. But she looked young. Honestly, she looked much younger than thirty. “I got a _massive_ bank loan after I bribed them with a _massive_ amount of food. Apparently it tasted good enough to get me here.”

“I’ve never actually been here.” He told her. “But it’s fantastic. Like the Ivy or Blacks got a makeover and was a bit more reasonably priced. You must get the whole spectrum of customers.”

She nodded, not even giving him a second look as he stuffed his mouth with a generous bite. “We offer certain, private discounts to groups larger than four. Children eat half price off of this private menu we have, and if you drink at the bar, any secondary drink from the restaurant side is free. I do not want to alienate someone because of their pay check.”

“Good. Charitable. That’s actually really sweet.”

Diana shrugged. “I worked in a pub with a mother of four who was my best friend, and I thought if I didn’t have a few things to offer, I’d never see her again. She would never come here. But she does now and then if only to laugh at my bar skills.”

As they ate she asked, “So what do you think you need to know about me? Might as well get to business.”

“Well, I got age, so birthday. Not that I’ll remember it, but the month might stick and Adam knows I’m dim with dates.” He admitted.

“August fifth. And I think I know yours but I’m also crap at dates.”

“Good, so I wouldn’t be the only one forgetting out anniversary.” He laughed until he realized how foolish and forward that sounded. “You know, hypothetically. I should probably also know a bit about how you became a chef.”

She cleared her throat. “Um, well, my father was a doctor. When I was young and went to his place he was always cooking. It was what he wanted to be, not a doctor. So I got into food. Not cooking. Just food. And I was super fat.”

Benedict almost choked, laughing hard without meaning to. “No, you’re messing with me.”

“I am not.” She repeated slowly. “I had the plethora of stress inducers. Divorced parents, wench mother, school bullies. I was a really thin girl until about fifteen and you know, fifteen’s a shite age so everything was ten times worse and when my dad died I gained like five stones.”

“Jesus, sorry.” He didn’t expect that death of her dad.

“Nah, it’s cool. Not cool, but, you know. Anyway, lost half that when I moved out and went to school. Lost the rest after I met Dean.”

“So if I ask Dean for stories about you, they’ll all be about a chubby girl.”

Of everything she just told him and he had said, Benedict didn’t think that would be the thing to offend her. “Don’t talk to Dean about me. Please. That’s just… a whole other story.”

“You didn’t date him, did you?” Benedict could see that bit being awkward.

“God, no.” She told him. “But I told you he’s always saving my arse and I would do anything for him. It’s really not an exaggeration, and _not_ relevant to all this.”

“Alright, deal.” He told her.

They sat there talking a very long time after closing, even indulging in more tiramisu. It wasn’t the planned trip to her house and doing this there, but this was just as private in the moment. Benedict asked one or two questions, about her schooling. He learned she dropped out six months before graduation. He learned about the pub, as well. Other than that, conversation really carried off topic like a date really would have been, getting to know each other.

In the end they parted outside of EC4 with the promise that Benedict would call as soon as he could work something out with Adam.


End file.
